


Relief

by PerfectPurgatory



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Kylo Ren doesn't take care of himself, Kylo Ren misses his Rey, Rey had no face, Weird dreams, really weird dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectPurgatory/pseuds/PerfectPurgatory
Summary: Upon waking up from another one of his nightmares, Kylo Ren anguishes over Rey leaving him behind.





	Relief

_Relief. She’s here, in the woods of Takodana. The trees are a bright green and the sky is a pale blue. Her brown hair blends in with her surroundings as if she belongs here, as if she was always meant to be here. Her back is turned, but he imagines that her eyes are the loveliest shade of brown, perfectly mixing with her sun-touched skin and warm hair._

_“Rey.” Kylo realizes that he’s wearing his helmet as her name filters through his modulator. He immediately unlatches it and sets it down on the ground. He has no want for it, no desire to intimidate her, and no reason to hide._

_He walks up to her, no longer adorning his helmet. He stops short, hesitating as if he’s unsure of what to do. After a few moments of deliberation, he places his hand on her shoulder, and she leans into it, placing her own hand on top of his. After giving her a small squeeze, he drapes his arms over her shoulders and pulls her even closer. Placing a kiss to the back of her head, he takes in the smell of her. She smells like salt and freshly baked sand. It’s refreshing. He wonders if she’s been to an island like the one in her dreams._

_They stand there, embracing each other for what seems like an eternity. He loosens his arms around her body and places his hands on her hips._

_This is how it could be._

_This is how it should be._

_“I’ve missed you,” he breathes into her ear, but there is no response. “I’ve thought of you every day since I last saw you.” Still no response. “Rey?”_

_He turns her around. Immediate horror floods his face as he steps backwards. Where her face should be is only a blur. There are no recognizable features on her face, just the smudge of a paint brush. He didn’t understand. He swallows as the facsimile of his love reaches out her hand towards him. After some hesitation, he did the same._

_Just as their hands connected, he fell, straight through the forest floor. Rey held onto him with both hands, and then, she let go._

_This is always how the dream ends. He falls and she lets him go._

He sits like this, every night, after the dream. The cold sweat on his brow has started to dry, but he still has that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. All he can think about was the blur of her face, the lack of any defining feature. He desperately tries to remember what she looks like, and he goes through a check list. Her eyes were a light brown. Her lips were thin, but a brilliant shade of pink. Her nose crinkles when she laughs. Her smile is contagious and wide. Her teeth are perfect. She has the slightest of dimples. Her eyes would shine in the mid-day sun.

Once he satisfies himself with his memory of her features, he rubs his hands over his face and swings his legs over the side of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

In the dream, she was there and she was his, even if only for a moment. But in reality? Only the opposite was true. He longed for her warm glow, the way her hair felt in between his fingers.

The war was over, Snoke was dead, and she had promised not to hand him over to the Resistance. Not yet, anyway. He wasn’t ready to handle going to face his mother. Kylo Ren would need to come to terms with Ben Organa before he faced the atrocities that the former had done.

He sits there, in his sweat, like he does every night, controlling his breathing. He was strong. He was capable. But he was not okay. He thinks about checking the time, but figures it’s no use. He knows it  must be early morning.

He goes to stand up, but must grab a hold of the wall for support. His head is swimming. When was the last time he ate? He clutches his head and wishes Rey was by his side. A sudden burst of anger caused him to yell, which only served to make him more lightheaded and, in turn, even more angry. Controlling his breathing hadn’t worked. He was nearly panting, a desperate sucking in of air and a violent breathing out. He tried to ground himself, steady himself. He focuses on her smile. On her voice. On how gentle she was when she dressed his wounds after that final battle, and on how genuine she sounded when she promised she would help him to deal with his transgressions.

His visions of her only served to make matters worse. Thoughts of her led to thoughts of the fact that she wasn’t there. He sinks to his knees and tries once again to breathe. His hands on the floor, he finds it hard to swallow. It takes what seems like an hour for him to calm down enough to sit back up, and even longer for him to stand up. He’s still trembling when he goes into the refresher.

Looking in the mirror, he doesn’t recognize himself. His hair is wild and his eyes are bloodshot. There are bags under his eyes and, for the second time that day, he wonders when the last time he ate was. There was stubble on his cheeks and he idly thumbed the fabric of his shirt, still shaken from the dream. He took a shower, then shaved, hoping it would make him feel better.

He made himself a cup of caf and then sat in the kitchen, alone. Thinking back to when she was here, he wonders if she could have ever loved him. If she ever had that feeling in her stomach like he had. That queasy feeling every time he looked at her, the way his head spun when she was too close to his face, it all haunted him. He wonders if she ever hurt for him like he had hurt for her.

He knows he could live with the idea that she didn’t love him. He knows that he could survive the burning in his heart. He just wants her back. He sedates his mind with the thought of her coming through that door, even if it was to take him back with her to the Resistance. He would let her do anything at this point, if she was by his side.

The idea held a little merit, he thought. What if he were to go to the Resistance on his own? If only to see her, no one would ever know. He could play it off as if he were nobly turning himself in. It had been months since he last had contact with Rey, and it didn’t seem likely that she was coming back.

He thought about it some more. After another cup of caf, he was near ready to jump onto the nearest ship. He thought about what would happen when he got there. What everyone would say. What everyone would _feel_. He definitely knew what he would feel.

Relief. That’s what he would feel when he saw her.


End file.
